Du Riechst So Gut
by MedicalNonsense
Summary: Prussia is dead, Germany mourns and Canada is lonely, Hungary just wishes he had never spoke those three words that ruined everything. When the blood starts flowing in the German countryside and Canada starts receiving phone calls, could he be alive?
1. Prologue

_(__**THROWBACK READERS**_) Okay, I know I have some people out there that are like "WTF are you doing?" when I'm supposed to be working on Throwback as I usually only work on one big project at a time, but, while this is a big project, it's sidelined by Throwback, which means I will be working on this, but Throwback is a main priority.

Yes, this is another of my inane ideas, it's a little out there and it is my first straight pairing fan fiction 0.o is there a problem with me? (_**IMPORTANT**_) Anyway, the beginning here has a references to Hidekaz's earlier designs of Prussia where he still has platinum blonde hair and blue eyes, before he turned into an albino, so that gets incorporated into the story as well as many other aspects of Prussia that confuse us a little bit. This is experimental and if it is not well-received I will stop work on it and put all my efforts back into Throwback and its sequel. Understand while working on this updates will come slower as I am interested in doing both.

.*.*.*.

_October 7th__, 1949, Berlin, Germany_

Angrily, he paced in his holding cell, grumbling about the stupidity of it all, blood still stained his shirt as he allowed the open wound on his back to bleed through his torn uniform. His own brother wasn't even going to visit him before that bastard took him away? Oh, sure, why not? Forget about the nation you dismantled, the nation that cared for you as a child, the nation that fought along side you in your blood lust in your mission of suicide; the nation that loved you!

Feeling as though a hand had squeezed his heart, Prussia dropped down to a bench sitting in the cell, twiddling his bare and bloody hands. Well, the blood on them was dry, cracking and flaking off, but it was still there.

"_Sir_?" Prussia's faint blue eyes flicked up to the owner of the voice, sitting up straighter to appear more dignified than he felt he stared down the man he was sure he had seen before.

"_What_?" The bite in his voice made the human wince, he seemed very nervous to be here in the first place. "_How did you get in here anyway_? _You look like one of my brother's boys…_"

"_I am, sir…__And I told them I had special news from your brother, he was just too busy to deliver it in person._"

"_True enough. Too busy for his brother which he has condemned to death._" Prussia stood and looked out the small window behind him. "_If you really do have a message from him, I have no interest in it. Now let me wallow in my own misery in private._"

"_Sir, it's not from your brother._"

Prussia turned on him, indignant that a human wished to address him without _need_, he growled, "_Then why would I want to listen to you. You arrogant fool_?"

"_It's important sir, concerning your… Death…_"

"_I am not dead yet you idiot_!_ I have just been moved to the territory of someone that will _be_ the death of me. What could a pitiful little creature like _you_ do to lessen this horrible event_?"

"_Sir, I know I may be speaking too freely, but you are hardly in a position to be complaining when someone offers to help you._" Prussia didn't respond and just sat back down, holding back a wince as his beaten back touched the cold cinderblocks of the wall. The weary nation waved him on to continue. "_Thank you, sir. You mentioned that the man whose possession you are falling into is going to be the death of you…_"

"_Yes, and_?"

"_Well… You do know that some day Germany is going to be reunited again…_" Prussia quirked an eyebrow at the human as he looked nervously around the room. "_It is, once the Allies can be sure that your brother won't cause anymore trouble, it's the way it's going to go… And… As you are going to be East Germany…_"

Prussia looked away, thinking, "_You are saying that my brother shall kill me yet again, correct_?"

"_Yes, sir. When you are finally reunited with your brother, you will be the one to die. Again with my free-speaking sir, but you got lucky that a new nation needed to be created soon after your dissolution. There won't be a next time._"

"_And so, you're here to remind me of this_?_ Remind me that the ungrateful little snot I raised as a father and became a brother to will repeatedly betray me and kill me_! _Is __**that**__ what you're here for_?" Prussia's voice had slowly risen to a furious roar, the human backing up and pleading with him to settle down.

"_No, sir… That's not why I'm here… I'm here to offer you something._"

"_Oh_?_ And would could a _human_ offer me_?"

"_Russia will be the death of you, sir… And you will live._" The human said, reaching into one of his back pockets.

"_What_?" Prussia narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him, wishing he had a cigarette as he was rubbing his hands together in a fidget.

"_I can offer you this, sir._" The vial the human pulled from his pants contained a purple liquid within. The liquid swirled around in the vial, it looked mostly like curdled milk with a bit of food coloring added, hardly something that could save his life. Warily, the once and soon-to-be nation stood, pacing slowly and dubiously forward, towards the human standing at the other side of the bars.

_Hmph, bars._ Prussia's inner monologue snorted, he could break out of here with the flick of his littlest finger, but he was hardly in any position to try to escape. It wouldn't change the flow of politics and his efforts would be wasted. "_And, what is this_?"

"_The only remnant of the discontinued Project Litchfield experiments. There was only enough time for _one_ of these to be produced and I, the only one trusted with it, am asking humbly for you to take it, sir._"

"_What will it do to me_?" The ancient nation held out his hand to him, silently asking for the small glass vial.

"_You will die, but you will not_."

"_What does that mean_?"

"_Exactly what it sounds like_." Curiously, Prussia spun the vial around his index finger, making the human nearly squeal with worry over the product. "_O-Of course, sir, the effects are not immediate, one must die first…_"

"_So, it lays dormant for a long time then_?" Quickly this little vial was looking more and more intriguing, it was worth giving a try… Besides, he doubted he'd even remember it by the time he died and he wouldn't be disappointed in the afterlife when it didn't work. What was the worst that could happen?

"_Yes, that's correct, sir… It worked that way with our test subjects_." Prussia wasn't even going to bother pointing out the fact that all their subjects were humans.

"_Interesting… I believe I shall give it a try…_" Pulling the stopper from the vial, the human squeaked again and frantically tried to get something out before Prussia drank it, "_P-Please, sir! One moment! There are some nasty… Side-effects…_" It was too late, Prussia had already downed the entire vial and was now looking curiously to the human.

"_Your test subjects were but measly humans. A nation is different. I might not even have the side-effects, but that could also mean that the serum won't work period._" Prussia's company nodded and shrugged.

"_I've done all I can… I hope things go well for you. I am getting the feeling I will be dead before much longer. I hope the serum never has a need to come into play._"

"_Don't we all_?" He nodded and Prussia bid him farewell, tossing the vial to him as he left. The Prussian smacked his lips and cringed at the awful aftertaste of the stuff, hopefully it wouldn't leave him with some nasty breath.

"Oh comrade East Germaaany!" And Prussia shivered, his new name sounded horrible, that _voice_ was horrible and when put together just made him want to vomit.

"Vhat, you giand Hindenburg?" he hissed at the large nation that sauntered into view.

"I'm here for you! All ze meetings are over, da! You are mine now, ve vill have _so_ much fun togezer." The sickeningly sweet smile on Russia's face made Prussia nearly vomit, if it were not for the serum in his stomach that ached so reminding him what it could do for him, he would have. He settled for taking a deep breath and shuddering instead. There was the grotesque squeal of metal as Russia opened his cell door and offered an arm to him. "Come to me comrade and ve may go." Prussia stood his ground against the giant, glaring at him hatefully. "Don't you _vant_ to get out of this var-destroyed piece of rubble?"

"Id's my home. Noh."

Russia's face darkened and it was enough to nearly make the diminutive nation piss himself, "You _vill_ come over here _now_ or you vill not like the consequences." His primal urge of self-preservation kicked in and Prussia took a begrudging step towards him then another and then another; all the while knowing he was feeding himself to a pack of hungry wolves. What happened from here on out, he was not Prussia, he wasn't even East Germany, he was a slave to this sadistic man. It didn't matter that he was nation except the fact that he was more durable than any human ever could be. He knew deep down this man would crush him entirely, crush him physically and mentally until he was little more than a screaming pile of meat on the floor begging for his master to stop beating him.

At first, he had hoped that these feelings in his gut would prove to be false… How unfortunate for him that this turned out to be everything his life was and worse for the duration of forty years.

Forty years of pain and humiliation, if he did die and the serum did work… He figured he would just kill himself again.

*.*

At the fall of the Berlin wall, Prussia attended, at hearing that it was going to be chipped away, Prussia immediately became the best little house slave around. Cooking for Russia, screaming when he was dominated, seeing to his every whim.

But, attending hadn't been as joyous as he had hoped it to be. Yes, his brother was there, yes it was the first time he had seen him in so long and he still loved him so after all these years… But he couldn't muster any enthusiasm at all. The shine to his blue eyes was gone, his hair had turned silvery-white with stress and heavy abuse of his scalp. Ludwig was still his brother, but he was no longer Ludwig's brother.

"_Gilbert, why don't you smile_? _Are you not happy to see me_?"

_Oh god! Never say that! I'm always happy to see you! I missed you! Please don't look at me like that… Please…_ "_I am merely tired, West. Give me a few weeks and I will be fine._" Unfortunately, he knew that he wouldn't have much time left in the world. He could die in a few weeks with Germany reuniting… As much as he loved Ludwig, there was one person he knew he had to see before it was all over. "_Ludwig, may I see Elizeveta_?"

Ludwig's eyebrow climbed up his forehead, he was _asking_, well… By the looks of his brother and the generally dead look in his eyes, he couldn't even begin to imagine what Russia put him through, "_Of course, she is here somewhere, along with Roderich._"

Oh, fuck, Austria was here too? Ah, why not? He hadn't seen the bastard in so long. Throwing an arm over Ludwig's shoulders they walked over to a congregated group of nations. France grinned widely and greeted him in French, a language Prussia was so rusty in he was hardly able to muster a response. Antonio was the next to greet him, throwing his arms enthusiastically around him, Ludwig was easily able to throw him off and then Italy did much the same and this was met with the same result. He saw the young boy Canada that no one noticed and patted him on the shoulder, everyone suddenly jumped as they noticed the blonde and he moved on, America just glaring at him. Romano yelled something none to flattering to him and he didn't respond. No one had seemed to realize yet that he was watching all this as if he were not a part of his body. He had no desire to see _any_ of these people, even Ludwig, he didn't want them to be here, there was only one he wanted and she had yet to come forward.

Continuing to shoulder through the crowd, he first saw his old bespectacled enemy. But he didn't look so much like an enemy anymore, he just looked sympathetic… And happy to see him. He even opened his arms as a friend would to welcome him and pulled him close, Ludwig almost didn't allow it but Austria released him after long at a protective look from said German man.

"Elizeveta?" Prussia asked Austria quietly.

"_She's over there somewhere._" Austria jerked his head in the direction of the joyous humans, well fuck… "_You should sit down though, I'll go get her._" And Roderich spun on his heels, heading for the crowd to find the woman of his affections. Everyone circled him once again as Ludwig managed to get him to sit down on a bench, him next to him.

"Is Gilbert feeling alright? Italy is worried about him…" Italy childishly whined, putting his arms around Gilbert's neck and clinging to his face at the same time, somehow.

"Italy, off." Germany ordered and the small boy whined again, detaching himself from the man he had missed so much over the years. Instead, he latched on to Germany in the same way and the blonde sighed.

"I ahm fine." Was all Prussia said, the tone of his voice seemed to tip everyone off that he was in no mood to listen to what any of them had to say or talk to anyone. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to Canada's nervous smile. Tipping his head to the side he wondered what the boy could possibly have to say that would make him feel any better.

"I-If you ever need anyone, eh… You know, to just rant at…" Prussia nodded and returned the pat to Canada's shoulder, everyone jumping again when he magically popped back into view. Prussia noticed the sigh and Canada just wandered off… Interesting lad…

The crowd of nations suddenly parted as Austria walked through with Hungary at his arm. Their fucking marriage had broken up so long ago, why were they still together!

"Hello, Gilbert. Roderich said you wanted to see me?" Hungary said brusquely and slightly surprised, she obviously hadn't expected him to look as bad as he did. Prussia nodded and looked around to the rest of the present company. They all felt the tension in the air and just chose to give him what he wanted… Of course, with the exclusion of Germany and Austria; both for their own separate reasons.

Looking around curiously Hungary noticed Prussia's angry glares at his brother and Austria. She smiled confidently and asked Austria to leave. Hesitating for a moment, Austria eventually did as she asked and motioned to Ludwig to follow. When the blonde didn't' stand Gilbert sighed tiredly, "_I'm a cripple now… What am I going to do_?" Clicking his tongue, Ludwig sighed and stood, standing protectively over his half-dead family, mussing his hair.

"_Shout if you need me_." Gilbert nodded and looked to Elizeveta. She smiled simply and dropped down next to him.

"So, Gilbert, how have you been?" She started, kindly.

"Like schid." He chuckled weakly but ended up coughing and nearly hacking up a lung later. "Dammid." His whole body cringed at the look of pity in her eyes. He didn't want to be pitied, he wanted to be respected, on second thought, maybe letting her see him in his pitiful state was the worst idea ever. But… When it came to the slope he was heading down, he knew there would be no more good days. And sadly, today was going to be one of the good ones. "Bud, enough aboud me, vhat aboud you?"

"Oh, God, I think I feel a little faint."

"Vhat's wrong?"

"You just said that you wanted to hear what _I_ had to say. Usually you just monopolize the whole conversation with what you have been doing." Immediately Hungary hated herself, Prussia's eyes were dead enough, but adding the film of disappointment over them just tore at her heartstrings. "I'm sorry, I'm only trying to be-"

"Noh, noh, I unterschtant. Id's nod a problem." They sat in silence then, neither knowing really what to say. Gilbert needed to tell her soon though but how does one just come out of the blue and admit they have feelings that they denied having for centuries? Feelings in general, not the specific ones he felt for the wonderful, beautiful woman sitting beside him right now, putting her hand on his leg. "You know… Elizeveta… You know vhat's happening to me, righd?"

She nodded, feeling tears in her eyes, she thought she would be fine as long as he didn't bring up his impending death. Too bad that was exactly what he had intended to do, "Yes." Elizeveta answered in a small voice, gripping Gilbert's leg a bit tighter. He laid one of his large hands on hers and leaned back onto the bench, too tired to attempt sitting up any longer.

"You know id's only going to ged vorse… Und in a few monds…"

"Can we talk about something else?" She suggested, shoving back her tears and gripping his leg again, hurting a healing wound he had. Realizing the pain he was in, she quickly released his leg and took her hand back, folding hers in her lap. "I don't want to talk about having to say goodbye…"

"Vhat else ist dere to talk aboud den?"

"I don't know… What I've been doing the past forty years?"

"Okay, zoh, vhat hef you been doing? Oder dan political schtuff?" She was silent and Prussia groaned in response, knowing that was all he was going to get. "Zee? Dead ist de topic of de day."

"Well, we can talk about when we were younger?"

"Zomeding along de lines of a fry-pan comes to mint." Prussia pessimistically grumbled, earning himself a glare from Elizeveta.

"Well why did you want to talk to me then? Huh? You just wanted to tell me you were dying? Is that it? Don't you think I can see that? Do you think I want to see you like this?" As quickly as he could (which wasn't very) Prussia raised a hand for her to stop, eventually putting it on her shoulder.

"I ahm zorry, I dit nod mean to upzed you." Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze she smiled, taking his hand in both of hers and playing with its rugged surfaces.

"I know. Was there something else you wanted to talk about though?"

"Yes… Acdually…"

"Oh?" With the twitch of a finger he beckoned her closer and, a bit dubious, she scooted closer to him in the cold air. "What?" When he requested he have his hand back, she gladly released it, him moving his warm palm up to her face. It reminded her almost of the long-absent sunshine in the cold months.

"_Ich… _I…" Careful not to set himself off balance, he moved his face closer to hers, making her think he was going to try to kiss her.

"What is it?" Her heart was beginning to pound, what would she say if he said… Could she say it back? Would she even want to? Loving a dying man certainly did have its drawbacks. Such as the heart-rending terror that the day they had would be his last. Or seeing him slowly fade from life as he gradually willed his own misery away.

"I lof you." Damn it, he had said exactly what she was hoping he wouldn't and just as before… She still didn't know what to say. When he tried to lean in to kiss her, she had to stand, knocking him away. He just stared despairingly at the dreary ground as she looked down at him. They both were silent, neither needing the other to say a word.

Elizeveta felt more tears in her eyes and she couldn't bare to look at the horrendous, dying thing that once was her friend. So, feeling like a coward, she turned and ran to hide her face from him. She couldn't answer him, _wouldn't_ answer him…

So, there Prussia sat in the cold, all alone. Still feeling the warm touch of Hungary's skin in his hand. Fuck his life… From his wonderful angle of staring at the ground, he saw a pair of boots walk into view, he didn't want to see whose they were though. The person sat down next to him, not even making the wooden bench creak, Canada.

"You zait vhen I neetet zomevon to rand to?" The boy jumped in surprise, seemingly amazed that he had been noticed by someone.

"Y-Yeah, eh…"

"Vell, vhat's your number?" Prussia held out his hand, asking for a slip of paper with a bit of graphite or ink on it.

"Uh-uhm, w-would my business card work, eh?"

"Anyding ist fine."

Reaching into his pocket, Canada extracted a card and put it into Prussia's hand. Taking the card, Prussia looked at it and tweaked an eyebrow curiously, "You're a tea aficionato?" a smirk came to his lips, it burned his face, but he managed.

"Y-Yeah… I work in a tea store in Ottawa, eh."

"Oh… Boring cofer." Canada nodded, not that Prussia could see or anything, but he imagined that must've been what the boy was doing. "Dank you."

"N-Not a problem…"

"_Westen_!" With that simple utterance, Germany appeared out of the thin air and loomed over him once more. Canada nearly squealed with surprise as he looked up at the towering nation, glaring down at him for the younger blonde to get lost.

"U-Uhm, right, uhm, Prussia, just call me whenever you need me, kay?"

"_Ja._" And Canada made himself scarce in a hurry, not even sparing Germany a backwards glance.

"Leds ged you home." Ludwig helped his brother to his feet and let him lean on him once more.

"_Did everyone leave_?"

"_They all thought you'd had enough excitement for the day._" Prussia nodded in agreement and let Ludwig guide him back to their home. _Their_ home, not Russia's cold, hard house, but their home. "_I love you, West…_"

"_I love you too, East._"

*.*

"Id's colt hier." Prussia moaned into the phone. His body was healing and a bit of his irritability was starting to return after a few months; but his sickness was progressing. He hacked a bit of bloody phlegm into a nearby rubbish bin and started coughing again, unable to quell his hurting body. And even if he was healing physically, everything ached constantly. And not the things he expected would be. His joints felt like they had broken glass in them, all of them, his limbs were as heavy as lead when he tried to move to make this worse and he was _hungry_ all the time. Only issue with the last one was, whenever he ate something, it felt empty to him, it did nothing to satisfy him and he would go for another few hours without eating, the pain getting progressively worse. The one time he let himself indulge and ate until it slaked some of his hunger, his stomach was so round and distended he couldn't move.

So was his life, always hungry, always tired, always in pain. How much longer could he stand this? As if just to make all of this so much worse, Hungary had refused to talk to him the last time he called her. Had refused every other time as well, it was far more likely for Austria to pick up the phone than her and he listened to her like the faithful dog he was. No matter how much pleading the sick and rotting man did, Roderich never listened to him. He offered his condolences and hung up every time.

So, he called Canada as often as he could for he, more often than not, found he had things to complain about.

"My nation is like Russia's, how do you think I feel?" Canada replied on the other end of the line, a slight bit of humor in his voice.

"Nah, anyvhere ist varmer dan Russia. _Trusd_ me." Prussia shifted on the couch he was laying on, wincing when his elbow and knees moved slightly.

"Well, Antarctica is probab-"

"**Nod** possible." His voice was more forceful than need be, but it was mostly to bare the pain.

"Okay, okay, sorry, eh." There was some clicking on the other end of the line and Prussia imagined the young man to be knitting.

"Ahre you knidding?"

"Uhm… N-No…?" A laugh escaped Prussia and he tossed his hair out of his eyes. He had been rather surprised to see that his hair was no longer growing in white; in the last few months, his roots were showing to be a pleasant shade of his once blonde. Of course, it wasn't as dark as it used to be, but it was definitely blonde. Ludwig had told him this was a sign that he was getting better, but they both knew in their hearts it was just an anomaly.

"Panzy boy."

"Hey, you like cute and fuzzy things too."

"You cahn'd zee id bud I'm schticking my tongue oud ahd you." And so he was, making Canada giggle on the other end of the line. "You zount like a liddle girl."

"Yeah and you sound like a human in his eighties, we're even."

"_Hartly_." He said in a near growl of a voice. Matthew only laughed again.

"You know Gil, if you could find a way over here, we should hang out. I have a couch and a television for you to laze on and in front of."

"Zorry, you know how _Westen_ ist. Und… I don'd know if I't be able to ged ofer dere anyvay…"

There was a frown in his voice when Matthew spoke again, "I know… I'm sorry for bringing it up. Well, I can drop by later if you want me to."

"_Westen_ again, he zays he doesn'd vant me hefing fisidors today."

"He's suffocating you."

"Noh, I belief my boty ist doing dat ahll on ids own."

"Don't be so negative."

"How cahn I nod be vhen I'm _clearly_-"

"No! I don't want to hear it." Gilbert hated it when people did that. It wasn't like denying his death would make things any better. But, he supposed Matthew had more right than any of his friends to want to deny it, Gilbert was one of the few people he could call friend. And it really sucked for him because out of all of Gilbert's friends, Matthew he had known for the shortest of time. They had only become friends as Gilbert began to die. "I'm sorry… I-I know, eh. I just wanted this to be a light conversation."

"I know." Gilbert moaned as he had to shift again and Matthew made a sympathetic noise from the other end of the line. "If you're pidying me, schtop id righd now."

"It's hard not to when you know someone you love is dying."

"If you loft me, you voultn'd pidy me."

"It's an unconditioned response, I cannot help it." Prussia nodded, supposing he saw logic in what Canada had said.

"I zee."

"_Osten_!" Both of the parties heard from somewhere in the house. Ludwig had practically become a mother hen to Gilbert and it was beginning to make him sick. Seeing how much forty years changed his brother from a bloodthirsty maniac to the world's best caregiver rubbed salt in old wounds. He had been a better person without Prussia around.

"I'm only on de phone _Westen_!" He called back to his brother who walked into the room and looked him over to see how he was doing.

"_Are you hungry_?" Germany asked, tweaking his brow and motioning to the phone.

"Id's Canada, und vhen ahm I nod?" Nodding the German left the room to go prepare something for the both of them to eat, not totally sure who Canada was… "I neet to goh, _Westen_ vill ged pissy if I'm schtill on de phone by de time he's done cooking." Prussia rolled his eyes.

"Ah, okay, I'll go then, eh. Call me any time. Bye!"

"_Tschüs._" They both hung up and Prussia was left bored, once again. Taking a deep breath, he sighed, could life get much worse?

*.*

Too bad for Prussia, it was possible for things to get worse. September of 1990 rolled around wheezes and coughs were the standard form of breathing. His skin felt tight and itchy, beautiful, blonde hair falling out in great clumps, bags having found a permanent home beneath his eyes.

Heaving himself up from the couch, his nerves all screaming and his muscles protesting against _any _movement. He knew today was his last day. It was the day he was going to die and he couldn't have been happier. It had been nearly a year and Hungary still never spoke to him, Francis and Antonio had stopped visiting two months ago, afraid of what they might find on their next visit. Maybe when they turned up at Germany's door to say hello they would hear that Prussia was no longer in.

Canada still said hello every-now-and-again, but he preferred not to be reminded of his dying state. At least he still called at least once a week, he could no longer stand to visit, though.

Growling and managing to grope his way to the door of the house, Germany was out at the meeting that would lead to his death… Like hell was he sticking around this house and waiting for it to happen. If he was going to die, he was going to die in a place that he liked.

Getting out onto the street was the first step, getting out of Berlin was the second. The first (though shakily executed) went well, the second, not so much. There was much tripping and vomiting of blood. Of course the latter scared many people and he ended up having to quicken his pace to avoid an ambulance.

After Berlin, he wandered into the countryside, knowing that each step he took could possibly be his last. So, he headed for a town, a small one, the country had always called to him with its open spaces. The small towns reminded him of simpler times, times when he could kill and have fun, when he didn't have to worry as much… What a perfect place to die at.

Another of his long-absent smiles curved his lips as he walked into the town limits of a small town, unfortunately, it was short-lived. He felt his heart skip beats and his muscles stiffen even further. Determinedly, an angry growl started deep in his throat as he screamed internally for his fucking body to work. Getting to an alleyway between two buildings, he slid down the wall, panting as he felt his body giving out on him.

Letting his head loll back, he stared up at the beautiful sky, it was too bright for his eyes so he had to squint, but it was a wonderful last memory of life. One last smirk curving his lips, his breath left him, along with heat and movement, his corpse going slack.

*.*

"_Hey, who's this unlucky bastard_?" A human youth with his friends asked, poking the body of what seemed like some kind of hobo. "_Ugh, disgusting, must be dead._" He looked around the dark alleyway, how long had it been here? It reeked, so it had probably been there since midday, well, it was mid_night_ now…

"_Looks like it._" His taller friend said, peering over his shoulder at him. The other in their group just stayed back. It was bad luck to mess with the dead. "_Want to see if he's got any money on him_?" Grinning, the first human began to lean over to pick him up and rifle through his clothes, the last spoke up, however, "_Why don't we bury him_?" The two turned around and gave him a look of "what are you smoking?"

"_Do we look like undertakers to you_?" The second hissed, motioning to the corpse their friend was beginning to search.

"_It's bad luck to desecrate the dead… Plus, do you even know what kind of diseases there could be on that thing_?" His friends looked to one another then, the first dropping the dead body back to the ground. "_Come on, let's just bury it. No one around here has gone missing so it's no one we know…_" All looking around and shrugging to each other, they decided that was their plan of action.

Grabbing the cadaver's sleeves, the youths dragged it out of the alley and into a nearby field. After arriving there, however, they noticed that they lacked a crucial element to this plan… A shovel.

"_Ah, damn it, I'll go get my shovel, be right back._" The third human said, running off for his house and leaving his less morally-inclined friends with the body.

"_So, who do you think this guy was_?" Human number two asked, looking over its faded, balding hair and expensive military clothes.

"_Don't know, don't care. Let's get his shit before Luka comes back_." Both of them grinning, they proceeded to strip the dead one's clothes down and search through his things. Pulling out a wallet, the second human looked through it, removing the marks therein, stopping to look for an ID of any sort. He made a quick "humph" noise at finding none and putting it back into the jacket pocket.

"_This guy must've been somebody, I got nearly 500 out of his wallet._" The second human told his friend as he cut the gold-plated buttons off his coat.

"_Yeah, he's got a gun too…_" The first human reached into the jacket and pulled a gun from the holster around the dead man's chest. "_Awesome_!" They both laughed merrily as they looked over their findings, putting it all in a pile next to them.

"_Really guys_?" Luka said, walking back into the group, a shovel slung over his shoulder.

"_Hey, we got ourselves some nice cash. And it's not like we've forgotten we're going to bury him_." Human one whined, standing up and waving the gun around in his hand. Luka and their other friend took a few steps back, he was liking that gun a bit too much for either of their tastes.

"_Be that as it may, it's still immoral._"

"_Oh and like your plan about burying him without notifying the police is any better_?"

"_Paul, stop being a jackass, put the gun down and let's the bury the poor guy_." Paul rolled his eyes and looked to their friend, he just shrugged, looking back down to their pile of stolen money. Sighing, Luka took the shovel down from his shoulder and began to dig. Seeing his friend's hungry stare at the pile, he groaned and smacked him on the arm, "_Come on Felix, I thought you were better than that_."

Felix snorted and crossed his arms, "_So now I'm a bad person for wanting money_?"

"_Not a bad person… But do you really want some dead guy's money_?" Luka kept digging, Paul pacing around, his attention totally transfixed on the gun. Both were still a bit wary of him, careful to keep an eye on him at all times. He was prone to being an idiot when you put just the slightest amount of power in his hands. Their teachers at school now knew better than to put him in charge of anything for any amount of time.

"_Fine, when we decide who gets what, you're not getting anything_." Felix declared, sitting down next to the shimmering mound of objects.

"_I don't _want_ anything._" His eyes flicking back to Paul, he sighed again, "_Paul, can you put the damn gun down_?_ You're making me nervous._" The other just snorted and Felix said, "_You are acting kind of creepy over there…_"

"_Hey, I'm a teenager, not stupid._" Paul replied, sticking the barrel of the gun into the waistband of his pants.

"_Could've fooled me_." Felix and Luka answered in unison, Luka picking up his digging pace so they could be out of this field before anyone woke up. Their friend just growled and folded his arms over his chest, beginning to pace again, but in a much sulkier way. Both the other Germans shook their heads and Felix picked up a gold button to examine it. The man's uniform looked reminiscent of some old Nazi uniform, but he had seen a _real_ one before. It was too fancy and he didn't recognize the seal on the buttons, they were very intricately made too, as if special care had been used on every detail. The seal appeared to be an eagle with its wings spread at the top, the tips of its feathers curving down and almost meeting a wreath of olive leaves at the bottom. Between these two symbols was a great 'N'.

Humming with curiosity, he got up and walked over to the body, flipping it over and searching its back pockets, "_H-Hey_!_ What are you doing_?" Luka asked, outraged that the man was still insistent upon getting anything else from the dead man.

"_Have you taken a look at those buttons_? _I haven't seen any insignia like that before. Paul and I didn't get a chance to check his back pockets. I'm just looking for an ID._" Felix explained irritably, searching into the pockets and still finding nothing, "_I can at least say with full confidence that this guy was no ordinary homeless guy. I don't even think he was homeless…_"

"_Well, then, what's he doing way out here_?" Paul asked, walking over and taking a seat by Felix.

"_I doubt we'll ever find out. His reasons were obviously his own_."

"_Guys, can we please just bury him before someone sees us_? _If this guy wasn't homeless and he had money to throw around for such a fancy uniform, there will be people looking for him. And if someone finds us with him, they're going to think _we_ killed him._" Luka stared pointedly at them, practically hearing them swallow at this realization. Felix hopped to his feet then, "_I'll go get another shovel and help_." And off he ran, Luka looked to Paul then as he kept examining the body. What was he trying to do?

"_Aren't you at all curious how he died_?" he asked, flipping the corpse over to lay on its back once again.

"_Not really, I just know he's dead._" Luka turned his back to Paul and returned to digging the body's grave.

"_Well, if you look at him… Besides the fact that he was balding, he looks young and shows no sign of being beaten up. If anything, it looks like he died from the flu or something…_"

"_I told you not to touch it_!" Luka hissed, Paul backing away from the dead man. "_Let's just get him buried, alright_? _Then we can forget about this whole thing_."

*.*

After Felix returned they actually got the grave dug, considering the fact that Felix and Paul had already touched the diseased body, Luka found it only right that they put it in the grave. He stood by, holding the shovels as they carelessly deposited it into the ground, throwing one of them to Paul when they had done so.

"_What am I supposed to do with this_?" The brown-haired human asked, looking indignant at being handed the tool.

"_Cover him up_. _What did you really think we were going to leave it open_?" Luka explained as Felix dropped to his ass next to him.

"_Why aren't you guys doing anything_?" Paul complained with whine in his voice. Luka just rolled his eyes and said, "_We dug the grave, you sat around on your ass and played with that damn gun._" Snorting, Paul supposed there was no way around it and started tossing dirt back into the hole.

Patting the dirt down at the end, Paul groaned and pulled a cigarette from a box in his pants, lighting up and taking a deep drag.

"_Well, now that's all done_," Felix got himself to his feet and brushed off, "_want to go back to my place for a drink_? _We never really celebrated today did we_?" Paul's eyes traveled to the mound of stolen goods asking, "_What're we doing with those_?"

Sighing, Luka scratched his head, tired from the night's activities, "_Do what you want with them, I couldn't care less._" Turning, he drug his tired ass from the field.

"_Hey_! _Hey where you going_?" Felix called after him. Luka just groaned and called over his shoulder, "_To your place_! _Where did you think_?"

"_Oh_…" Felix and Paul chuckling, they leaned down and picked up their pile and leaving the field. Paul couldn't leave before saying, however, "_Thanks for the haul man_!"

*.*

Okay, in his current situation, there were very few things that he knew about. One, was that it was stuffy and dark, two he couldn't really move, three, he was _very_ hungry and four, he was supposed to be dead… Well, the first three he could live with, but that last one was a real downer. Also, it confused him beyond belief. He sure felt fine, well, other than this confining space getting on his nerves.

Attempting to take a deep breath, he realized he couldn't, hm… Trying again it was easy to assess that there just wasn't any air where he was, but that _again_ didn't make sense. How could he be conscious if there was no air to breathe? Grunting a little bit, trying to force his way around, something fell into his mouth. It tasted like dirt… Oh fuck! Panic set in just as he realized what had most likely happened! Germany had come home and saw him sleeping on the couch! He must've thought he was dead and buried him alive!

Closing his eyes and attempting to take some deep calming breaths he was frustrated again by the lack of air to do so and just got a mouthful of dirt once more. Coughing, (somehow) he forced the wet dirt out and onto his face. Wait… Onto his face… If he were buried and the dirt was loose enough for it to fall into his mouth, he must've had _some_ chance of digging himself out. At least the wet dirt on his cheeks told him he was facing upwards.

Managing to shift his arms into a better position, he began to claw into the dirt. Frantically clawing forward and up, he was grateful when he could finally move the rest of his body and work his way up. After a bit more clawing, he felt his fingers break through the surface, the wind caressing them. A bright grin lit up his face as he burst out of the ground and into the world above. Oh, but what a horrible greeting _that_ was.

Taking a deep breath of the air, he found it burned his lungs and incinerated his nose, so many scents! The sound above ground was positively _horrific_, everything sounded like screams, a small fly buzzing by his head gave him the worst headache imaginable. Oh, God and the sun! He felt it burning his skin cell by cell, it was the worst feeling he had ever had, worse than anything he had _ever_ felt before "dying". The light blinded him even with his eyes directed at the ground.

Roaring in frustration because of the fly that still buzzed around him, he grabbed it and thrust it into his mouth. Swallowing it immediately. Not even debating internally why in Hell he had done that.

Strangely enough, it eased the pain, but not enough for him to want to face the world. Thinking quickly, he dug himself back into the ground, covering himself and his sizzling skin, his hunger calling him to venture forth. It took all his resolve to keep himself successfully down in the ground, the pain that would assault him up there overruling the pain he felt in his ravenous gut.

Settling his breathing, as he still found it painful, he decided he wouldn't breathe any more than he would have to. Grumbling that this was the worst awakening that he had ever had, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to die once more. Before he let this happen though, something in the back of his mind told him that come night, he would be able to dig himself out again. So, wait for the night he would, just with less of a pulse.

.*.*.*.

Notes:

"_Italics_!"-Denotes a conversation in a different language where the majority of present parties can understand what is being said.

Litchfield Experiments-Now, if I explained this one, it would be no fun, go look it up if you really are curious J

Paul, Felix, Luka-Meet my OCs, only one will stick around for long.

Westen-West (It's Prussia's nickname for Germany, since the nickname came from a German word, the nickname is always in German)

Osten-East (Germany's nickname for Prussia)

Tschüs-Bye. (Apparently is also very Prussian, fun fact of the day…)

Accents-I care little for dissent upon them, if you have suggestions about what would sound better for an accent, go ahead. But I'm not going to get rid of them because I like them.

Okay, first chapter, took me too long write and I'm only halfway done with Chapter 11 of Throwback, ack. I feel so behind!


	2. Asche zu Asche

Yep, another one before Throwback 11, sorry my readers, don't worry, I'm still working hard on it! It's over halfway done. So, yep, here it is.

_.*.*.*._

_Ich komm wieder_

_in zehn Tagen_

_als dein Schatten_

_und werd dich jagen_

*.*

Instantly jumping to awareness, Prussia groaned and had to remember where in the hell he was. Oh, that was right, he was buried some odd three feet beneath the dirt. His stomach gave a very audible moan of pain and hunger, making him curl inward slightly. Well, just great, even after he "died" his stomach never gave in!

Growling, he dug himself out of the dirt, the cool night air caressing his face. It was still a little bit too bright, he had to squint to see properly. The air still burned his lungs, the smells were still so strong they made him sick and hence he kept the breathing to a minimum once more.

Sighing, he rested his face on his hand, wondering what in the world he was going to do now. He had no idea how he had gotten out into this field, no idea when he had even left Berlin. The single fact that he was in a field and not a cemetery (or even in a casket) told him enough that Germany hadn't buried him. Suddenly, he caught a scent that didn't burn his nose. Blinking, he sniffed the cuff of his dress jacket, not even taking the time to notice his cufflink had been stolen from his shirt inside.

Well, whatever it was, it made his stomach growl, blinking once again, he pulled his lower half out of the dirt and sat down on the ground. Humming, he took the time to notice that there were _two_ delicious smells on his clothes. Drool was beginning to build up in his mouth and his stomach nearly threatened to tear him apart. A slow growl slid from his throat as he thrust himself to his feet. Hm, a bit shaky… Shaking his head back and forth, he rubbed his face again and noticed something strange. What the fuck was up with his hand?

Looking the appendage over, he noticed how dreadfully pale it was, all his veins very nicely outlined underneath the skin. His fingernails were black and not from the dirt, the tips of his fingers blue. Noticing that it went clear up into his sleeve, he reached for his coat to unbutton it, but found it already was, his buttons missing! Ignoring this simple fact for a second, he unbuttoned his white shirt and flung his loose tie over his shoulder, looking at his chest. The skin was equally pale, veins crisscrossing the surface… What… Had happened?

A bit of his hair floated into his face and he looked up at it, silver? When had that happened? Yeah, his hair had paled in the last couple months, but it had never gone back to the silver color it had been while occupied by Russia. Reaching up to feel his hair, attempting to pull a chunk out (as it had been wont for awhile) he found it exceptionally difficult to do so. He had a full head of hair again! Excitedly, he groped his head, so what if it were silver! He had all of it back!

Throwing his head back and laughing joyously, he found he could do little more than cough, the air burning him as it flew down his throat and into his nose. Gripping his neck and slowly calming his coughs, his stomach once more reminded him of his hunger and the smell on his clothes caught his attention once more. Another unbidden growl came and he picked up the scents on his clothes in the air. Jerkily at first, he began to walk, heading for the scents. Augh, boy was he ever going to pig out when he got there.

*.*

_Ten Days Prior_

As Germany signed what he needed to and watched as his boss did the same, he sighed. Perhaps he should have thought about what would happen to his brother in his absence. But, he had met Rome hadn't he? Didn't that mean that there was a chance that Gilbert would still be alive upon his return? Well, that answer came right quick when he felt like something had just been ripped off his body. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he gripped his chest, catching the attention from his boss and the other present parties.

"_Ludwig, are you alright_?" His boss asked in a hushed tone, inching slightly closer to the man he had rarely spoken to recently.

"_Just fine… Carry on with your meeting, sir._" The blonde replied, keeping his voice quiet. Giving Germany one last worried look, his boss turned back to the meeting at hand.

_What was that? _Germany asked himself, putting his hands back into a relax position (a very difficult task), the pain still pulsed like an amputated limb. Thinking as hard as he possibly could on the subject, it hit him. _East_… A strangled noise escaping him, his eyes went wide as he just stared down at his lap.

Was he… Could Gilbert have… No! No, it wasn't… But… Thrusting himself to his feet he regarded the humans present, "_Excuse me, there is something urgent that I must attend to. If there is anything else that needs my approval ask it now_." At getting no response he nodded and had to use all the strength he had to keep himself from all out bolting from the room.

Once out in the hallway, however, there was nothing stopping him and he did exactly what his legs wanted. He was out on the streets of Berlin in seconds, through and _over_ traffic in just the same amount of time. His boss would get on him about this, humans weren't supposed to know they existed. Ducking underneath a truck and easily jumping from there to the top of a car back down to the sidewalk, he dashed through the crowds of humans, not caring who he knocked over or hurt.

Getting to his house, he saw the door open and he felt like a sledgehammer had smacked him in the chest.

"Gilbert!" Running into the house, he skidded to a stop in the front hall and frantically looked about for any sign of his brother. "Gilbert! _Are you here_?" He called into the house. Hearing no reply, he ran throughout the house, first heading for the couch Gilbert had taken to lazing on, "_Fuck_!" Next he ran upstairs, Gilbert hadn't been able to manage stairs for sometime, but if he were determined enough, it was possible for him to go up to his room. Kicking the door open and finding the room in as much a pristine state as it had been for months he quickly felt his stomach dropping to the floor and tears burning his eyes. "_No, no, no, no, no…_" Still thinking there was some hope, he went down the stairs, taking two at a time, heading for the kitchen. Finding it likewise empty, he felt his stomach flip over on itself, Gilbert wasn't here… He wasn't here and he most likely was dead.

A guttural yell ripping from his lungs he beat his head into the frame of the kitchen door, imprinting it with his forehead. His body shaking as he denied himself tears and sobs, he slowly slipped to the floor. Putting his arms around himself he buried his face into them as he curled his knees in on himself.

"_Ve_! Germany~!" Oh, fuck, why in Hell was he here?

"Go avay Italy!" Germany roared, his sorrow tinting his voice and quickening the sounds of Italy's footsteps.

"Ve, Germany, what's wrong?" Italy asked, standing over his mourning friend.

Growling and not wanting to look up at him, Germany answered, "Gilbert is nod here… Und…"

"And what?" Italy's happy-go-lucky tone had faded slightly at the sight of an actually _crying_ Germany. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen Germany cry before.

"I feld him…" The Italian looked away, sighing sadly, he knew he should say something, but how do you console a man that lost a man that was both his brother _and_ his father.

"M-Maybe he's with France! Or, or Spain! What about America?"

Germany shook his head, partially wondering where America had come from, he never hung out with America… But then who was that blonde guy that visited and called a lot? Hm, moving along, "Dey all schtoppt fisiding a long time ago. Efen de blonde guy." A sob racked Germany and he curled back in on himself. He felt Italy kneel by him and he suppressed the overwhelming urge to shove him away, if he didn't go away soon though, he was afraid he was going to take out his frustrations on him. Neither of them would have liked that.

"We knew it was going to happen, right?" Italy had sat down next to him and was leaning against his arm. Why did they know this was going to happen though? Italy and Romano were two made one. Was it because one wasn't carved from the other? Or was it simply the gods had no desire for Gilbert to still exist? This land was originally Gilbert's! _He_ should have been the one to fade away slowly and painfully, not him…

"Dat doesn'd make it hurd any less." the German growled, not wanting to look up at the sparkling brown eyes that pitied him. If he did, he definitely would have punched him. Fingers played with his slicked hair and Germany sighed, "Italy, leaf before I hurd you."

"I won't mind." Italy kept playing with a piece of hair and Ludwig slowly felt the tension slipping from his body. He was still hurting, but the anger had faded, now he just wanted to mourn. "Everything will be alright." Tears actually felt from the beautiful blue orbs and were absorbed into the material of the German's good uniform.

"Gilbert is dead… How can dings schtill be alrighd? He has alvays been dere…" An arm slipped around Ludwig's shoulders and its hand gripped his bicep firmly. "Efen avder dey took him avay, I ad leasd knew he vas alife." Maybe that had been their true plan. Get him used to life without Gilbert… But this transition was far worse than that. Never seeing him again was a horrible prospect as opposed to being away from him for a long time but having the chance of talking to him or at least catching a glimpse of him at a distance.

Before leaving the house today, the last thing he had said to him just was "I'll see you when I get back". And now he couldn't even do that! Why did Gilbert leave? That just somehow made this all the worse. Why didn't he at least tell him that he loved him before he left? A sob broke through the large man's iron defense and Italy pulled him closer. It was always heart-rending to see a big man like him cry.

"I schoult hef tolt him I loft him before I lefd…" He sobbed again and Italy slipped his hand into the space between Ludwig's knees and his face, feeling his cheek. With some gentle coercion he managed to get Germany to face him. It was new to see him the one with red, puffy eyes, and even while crying he still seemed dignified somehow. "He'll nefer be dere again…"

Italy looked away for a moment, "I-If it's any consolation, I'll still always be here… T-That's worth something, i-isn't it?" Italy felt a warm, gloved hand on his and he looked back to him, Germany wasn't smiling, in fact, he was quite hard faced, but his eyes held a softness, a smile existed within them.

"Dat's alvays vord someding." Italy smiled to him and Germany looked away, taking a deep breath and sighing. He had to think about funeral preparations. Sure, there would be no body, but he still deserved the respect of a funeral. Tears threatened him again, he had never dealt with something like this before. Even at the death of their father, Prussia and he didn't attend. They didn't even ever find out who had gone and arranged for the funeral. Well, Gilbert probably did and just never told him.

Suddenly, he felt Italy's warm lips press to his temple and he sighed again, leaning against the welcomed gesture of affection. Carefully, Germany put his hand behind Italy and pulled him close in much the same way that Italy had been doing to him.

"You're my besd friend, you know dat?" Italy giggled and kissed him, making Germany wince back and stare at him oddly.

"You're mine too." the Italian said brightly while Germany was still content to stare at him, somewhat terrified.

"Alrighd…" Ludwig nodded and embraced Feliciano tighter, slacking his grip after a few seconds and rubbing his arm as he stared at him confused and Feliciano kept on smiling.

*.*

_1 Week Later_

Germany stood at the podium, he had had something prepared for this occasion, but it seemed too cold and detached. He had written his sorrows out as if he were just going to the store. Of course, as it was when a nation died, all nations had been invited, but only the precious few came. Only the ones that cared, while it seemed Gilbert had a lack of friends, Germany somehow felt that it didn't matter. These were the people he put all his faith and love into. So why should he stand up here and talk as if he was the only one Gilbert mattered to?

Taking a deep breath, he looked over the small crowd of individuals. Canada (that was the blonde guy!) sat in front, dressed in a good black suit, all the while trying to remain as dignified as possible and push back tears, America by his side, obviously forced to come along by the bored look on his face. Next to him was France, stylish as always, eyes red from possibly prolonged crying, a depressed Spain clung to Romano's dead white hand and leaned on the Frenchman's shoulder. Hungary and Austria sat in the second row, Hungary hiding her face in Austria's coat and England behind France, his legs crossed, face mournful. Amazingly, Japan had also shown up, along with Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia and Poland, the last four were especially a surprise, but if they wished to come pay their respects to a man they once knew, he didn't have a problem with it. The one person Germany had any intention of asking _why_ they were here was sitting in the last row, smiling away; Russia.

Feliciano felt Ludwig's arms tense as his eyes fell on the Russian and he gently patted his back, "Calm down, just speak. Ve~." he whispered to Germany, keeping his hand on him until he felt the muscles relax.

"Ve ahre gadert here today to mourn the passing of a dear friend of ours. Gilbert vas many dings, my bruder, my fader, a gread drinking butty, a troublemaker, bud mosdly he vas vhat ve all look for; a beloft and lofing friend. I _cannod_ efer pud into vorts how much he meand to me, und I know dat he meand alod to all of you." Ludwig looked away, drumming his fingers on the podium, his eyes straying to the black and white photo of Gilbert sitting in front of the closed casket that his great kingdom's flag draped over it. "Of course, all of you can guess dat Gilbert vischt dis to be done in de olt vay, hence ve gader here in de back yart und vill be valking to de cemetery…" Everybody nodded in understanding before Ludwig managed to get back to speaking, "I vant to _hear_ vhat he meand to all of you. If you don'd mint, of course." There were no objections, so he took a deep breath and asked, "Who vants to go first." Pretty much everybody, excluding America and Russia, stood at the same time.

After a little bit of arguing it was finally decided that France could go first, Germany and Italy stepped down and France took their place.

"Gilbert was…" Francis paused and shook his head with an exasperated sigh, "Okay, it has already been said that he was a beloved and loving friend… But look at those of us here that are his friends." A pointed look was directed at Russia and France got back to speaking, "He never tried to make friends with any of us. Did he? We never really tried with him either… Austria over there, they spent what seemed like eons fighting and look, he's attending!" Roderich smiled to him and played with Hungary's hair. "Hungary is here, and all he ever did was torment her, at least, that's the story we all got." Antonio wolf-whistled and Elizeveta blushed angrily, folding her arms over her chest, "But getting back to Gilbert here… We never tried, it just happened. All of us knew we were meant to be friends with him and, one way or another, it happened. We all came to love him and he us. I'd like to think it takes very _special_ people to love Gilbert… But, if you look at him, he was the epitome of a person that didn't care what you thought and openly _refused_ your love if you couldn't handle him on a bad day. You weren't _worthy_ of sharing a beer or a good day with him if you couldn't make light of his narcissism, violence or his… Strange ways of showing his affection. In his own, crass words, he was a fucking awesome man." France waited for the chattering to die down before he began to speak again. Germany was thinking he was an oddly great speaker…

"And considering the type of man Gilbert was, wanting to be remembered and loved forever, which, among our kind is completely possible, I just can't see him wanting us to be sad. Well, I mean, he wants us to miss him, but let it rule our lives for any amount of time, no. He was selfish, rude, perverted, hilarious, lovable and loving… He never even wanted to think of the day this would come and the one time we did speak of it a long time ago, before the second world war, he said, 'vhat a laugh dat day vill be, you ahll know too much'." The present nations whispered to one another. "So, I think we all should live up to his expectations for once and have fun today. Be done with our mourning, but think of him often." People actually clapped for him and Francis walked down from the podium, vacating it for whoever was next.

While there were no more speeches like France's, everyone that went up to the podium had stories to tell, most of them quite entertaining. Germany managed to sit through at least three stories Antonio had before finally bursting out laughing like everyone else. Needless to say, Italy was very proud of him, he even had some of his own stories to tell. Of course, Germany's got a lot more laughs as many of them were moments only they were privy to, finally shared with the rest of Gilbert's friends.

Then after so much laughter, Hungary stepped on stage and everyone fell silent. She stood there and seemed to debate with herself for a moment. Well, finally getting up the courage to speak, she leaned forward and spoke into the microphone, "Hello everyone… Uhm… I suppose I'm up here to tell you funny stories of Gilbert, but a lot of them were so long ago that all of you guys know them. But I do have one I doubt he shared or would ever want to. I also know, that most of you already know the main fact of the story. So here it is. It was a very long time ago and I don't know exactly when it happened anymore. But I know it was back when he was still a rotten, assholish bastard. Pardon my French." Francis made a chuckling noise and Hungary was obliged to say, "No pun intended. So, it was during one of his calm moments. We were walking, probably to meet up with Austria… Just talking, he wasn't making any of his nasty jokes, we just talked about current events and what we felt like doing… There was something about how we were just so at ease with each other," She paused to remember the moment and took a deep breath, "I loved him. In that moment, I realized, if anything had ever happened to him, I would do to them what I did to Gilbert on a regular basis."

"Beat th'shit out of 'em?" America interrupted and ended up getting a frying pan to the face, everyone winced and inched away from the passed out American.

"Humph, as I was saying." Hungary regained some of her composure, "And here's something else, before he died, back in November, he finally told me he loved me." At that moment, everyone looked to each other, Gilbert never said so much as a word about it and didn't Hungary never call or visit? "I know what you're all thinking, 'why didn't I ever come around'… I did love him once, in that long time ago. But unfed flames fade, his forty-year absence made me wonder what I had ever seen in him. So, when he told me and tried to kiss me. I had to refuse, I didn't answer him and ran away. It has been eating at me, this story. I needed to tell it… And now that Gilbert is gone, I know that a great deal of my happiness has disappeared along with his life. I'm sorry Roderich and I'm sorry everyone for ending this on a sad note." She stepped down from the podium and took her seat next to Roderich again. Everyone was back to mumbling to one another and Germany came back up to the microphone, with that new knowledge that he was at least able to tell Hungary how he had felt, he felt a some sense of accomplishment. Proud for his brother finally saying something. But now was time to put him in the ground and let this all rest.

He pulled a note from the podium and read it out loud, "Francis, Antonio, Mattie, Roddy, Ludwig und Arthur, afder my ass has bid de dusd, I vant you to be de vons dat bare me to my final resding place. I know dat I vas awesome and hereto you hef probably tolt efryvon jus' as much aboud me. I tolt you all, you knew too much aboud me. I hef nefer admidet to anyvon bud you guys, my mosd inner feelings, yes, I do hef dose, my desires in life, as vell as de dings dat mate it suck.

Ludwig, my beloft bruder, I leaf you efryding I hef, sorry guys, I don'd hef much anymore. So, Francis und Antonio, you're bode schtill losers, bud you're my losers, efryding you efer dit to me, I hold no grudges, same goes to you Arthur, efen dough all of your hef aget like milk, you'fe been awesome.

To Schpecs, Ludwig, if dere is anyding of mine he vishes, don'd gif it to him. He can hef id for a nominal fee of vhich you can name, if you catch my drifd." Everyone chuckled at that, even Germany, "Mattie, you hef been awesome, I visch ve hat more time to ged to know each oder und I coult hef godden you into de same amound of trouble efryvon else has hat to deal vid ofer de years. You vere truly a brighd schpod near de ent. Don'd led my dead ged you down und nefer led people tell you you are nod awesome. Alvays try to be heppy vid vhat you hef und yell at your bruder more ofden. If you don'd, I vill redurn from de grafe und bead you vid your own arm." Germany paused for a second as everyone chuckled and looked to America and Canada, Canada was beet red and America was still out cold.

"Und… To my dearest Elizeveta. I know I vas awful in life, bud I dit sincerely lof you. All of you are going to call me a faggod, bud I loft you efen vhen I doughd you vere a boy." Everyone made an "awww" sound and Italy poked Germany's cheek. He gave him a pointed look and his eyes flicked to the shamefaced Hungary. Sighing, he continued the note, "Efen in dead, as I go to vherefer it is dat ve nations go (hopefully de same place as Olt Fritz) I vill _schtill_ lof you. Und, to answer any unanswered questions of _vhy_ I vas alvays like dat, I cannod honesdly say. Mulling it ofer as I hef been on de couch vhere you all hef seen me, I dink I hef de mosd likely answer." Germany read over the last few lines silently before taking a breath and reading it for everyone else, "Vhen it comes to being remembered, no von efer remembers de guy who took a back sead in life. If I coultn'd be loft de vay I loft you, den I voult make you hade me. It's bedder dan being forgodden completely. Ve all crafe attention, vheder it is goot or bat. If in your memories I am either villain or hero, I don'd care, as long as I am dere. You vill led me lif on, I vill led my bruder schtop talking now since I can guess he is probably uncomfortable und aboud to cry." Damn it, was he really so predictable, taking a steadying breath he read the last few lines, "I vas awesome, bud I voultn't hef been anyvhere near as if you all hatn'd been dere. Fuck life, whores in heafen are bedder dan any you coult imagine on Eard."

Ludwig folded up the letter and put it in his back pocket, he gave the five others pointed looks and they all rose, heading for the casket. Matthew stopped to shake his brother awake, very disorientated, he looked around before Matthew smiled and walked over to the casket. Picking up the picture of Gilbert he handed it to Alfred to hold. The six on the empty casket lifted it with ease, Elizeveta picking up a bouquet of flowers as they walked with it, Ludwig directing them all silently. As the others passed the pedestal the casket had been upon, Toris, Feliks, Feliciano, Alfred, Eduard, Lovino, Ravis, even Ivan (the only one not to speak earlier) picked up whatever flowers there were sitting upon it.

They traversed the streets of Berlin, getting many odd looks, the six pallbearers just ignored them and focused on their duty to the empty casket. Even through all the disrespectful stares they were getting, Alfred remained silent as much as he would have liked to tell them all to get some fucking respect.

Then again, everyone supposed it wasn't every day you saw an on foot procession, nobody ever did them anymore unless the church was directly next to the cemetery. As busy as Berlin was, they all made it to the cemetery with no mishaps, cars were gracious enough to lend them the right of way even at stoplights.

At the site, a mausoleum, old but well-taken care of was ready to receive the casket. Many wondered what was so special about the mausoleum that Gilbert was going to be buried within. Walking into it, they found there to be a single, open, marble coffin. Their eyes strayed to the top of the coffin and saw it was a carved visage of Gilbert in his old tri-cornered hat and caped uniform. The likeness was on its back, its eyes closed, a gun clutched in its hands.

_How long has this been here?_ Pretty much everyone thought in unison and looked to Ludwig, he just looked determined to get this job done. Everyone lowering the casket into its new case, tears flowed from their faces and landed on the flag, Ludwig finally removing it and managing to fold it up by his lonesome. He handed it to Feliciano and motioned to the flower bearing guests. Elizeveta being the first, lowered the large bouquet into the coffin to sit atop the casket. Next was everyone else, Alfred dropping his rose in, he said a few words and crossed the body, clutching at the cross he had beneath this good clothes. Bowing away, Feliks and Toris were next, dropping their flowers in and quickly turning away. Eduard, then Ravis, everyone tensed when Ivan walked up to the coffin and offered his flower, "You were fun." he said with a smile so sickeningly sweet all attending almost threw up. Feliciano and Lovino went at the same time, both offering words, Lovino's of slightly questionable intention but either way, they tossed their flowers in. Finally, it was the pallbearers turns, Matthew first, Arthur next, then Antonio, Roderich and Francis followed, each allowing shameless tears to fall from their eyes. All eyes were on Ludwig then, he twirled the flower around in his hand before stepping up to the huge marble coffin.

"_Ich liebe dich_," He whispered, dropping the flower, "_für immer_." As a last order of business, the six pallbearers leaned down and easily lifted the gigantic slab of marble; the reason why these processions never had humans at them. Sliding it into place, everyone said their final goodbyes and it was done.

*.*

Back at the German household, everyone sat silently at the repast as they ate, nobody caring to break the silence. Feliciano sat next to Ludwig and watched him as he didn't eat. He just continued to examine the pile of pasta and poke at it idly with his fork.

"Ludwig," Feliciano whispered, "it's not going to eat you, ve." A blue orb flicked to regard him, his brow furrowing at the attempt at a joke. The small Italian chuckled nervously and looked away, soon after feeling Ludwig patting him on the back.

"Sorry." Ludwig took his hand back and twirled some noodles around a fork before eating it.

"It's alright, I wouldn't be up for jokes either." Feliciano responded, eating a bit of his noodles too. "You just look so hopeless…"

"I am."

Sighing, Feliciano put his fork down and looked to him, kissing his cheek, "Ludwig is never hopeless. He is still alive right?" Slowly, Ludwig nodded, not looking up from his food or even caring to notice that they had caught some of the guests eyes. "So there is hope. You love Gilbert, so don't… Don't make him sad by being sad. Make him happy as he watches over you. Okay?" Again nodding, Feliciano smiled and kissed the corner of his mouth, making Ludwig tense. He had been growing more and more bold with his kiss placements recently. At least he hadn't _fully_ kissed him since that day a week ago.

"Say, eh, Ludwig?" Arthur asked to get the blonde's attention, Ludwig looked up to him, raising his brows. "Where did 'at mausoleum come from? It looked old but meant for Gilbert."

"I had it built soon after we were split up." Everyone in the room looked to each other, the exception being Russia. At least that answered the question of whether or not Ludwig had completely known his brother was going to die upon reunification. None of them had really expected Ludwig to have known so early though.

Silence resumed and was not broken again until the repast ended. Upon that, however, everyone said their goodbyes and left.

As Ludwig watched them all leave, he felt his chest sink and looked to Feliciano as he took his hand.

"Remember what I said?" he asked hopefully, Ludwig took a deep breath and sighed, replying with "Efryding is going to be alrighd."

*.*

_Three Days Later, Somewhere in the German Countryside_

"_You guys… Bought a shit-ton of booze_?" Luka asked his friends as they showed him what they had done with the money they had collected off the dead military man. The coffee table in front of the couch held a surprising amount of bottles holding liquids both clear and colorful. Even the floor had several large bottles of alcohol coating it, his friends grinning madly at him.

"_And weed, can't forget weed_!" Paul said, grinning wider and high-fiving Felix.

"_Instead of putting the money towards something _useful_ you chose to put it towards alcohol and drugs_?" Luka groaned and sat down on the couch, they were currently hanging out in the basement of Paul's house.

"_Uhm, like what_?" Paul asked, looking to Felix with a bit of confusion. Felix just shrugged and Luka groaned again.

"_Uhm_, _how about saving it_? _Never know when you're going to get your ass in a jam and all that_?" Human number one just blinked, still confused about why he would ever do that. "_Wow, my friends are idiots_."

"_Why do you hang out with us then_?" Felix asked, taking out a joint and lighting it up.

"_Because I love you guys for some strange reason._" The two others in the room laughed and sniggered, "_Oh, come on, you know what I meant_!"

"_Suuuure, we did… Faggot._" Paul and Felix ducked as a remote control was savagely aimed and thrown at their heads.

"_Shut up, idiots._" Luka snorted and folded his arms over his chest, not wanting to partake of any of their ill-gotten gains "_Oh, hey, you guys managed to spend all the money yet_?" he asked, not expecting much of an answer besides "_Ja_."

"_Nah, it's only been like, what_? _Ten days_? _Give us a month_." Felix poured himself a drink and Paul soon after snatched the bottle from him and poured himself one. "_Why do you ask anyway_?"

Rolling his eyes as Felix took his first drink of the dark brown liquid Luka explained, "_Old Erdrich is selling an old car of his. If you guys save some of that, we might actually get it._" That certainly excited the boys.

"_Sounds great_! _I say we toast_!" Paul cheered, downing what was left of his glass and pouring himself another one, pouring Felix a new one too as his smoking joint hung from his mouth. Noticing the man was smoking both a joint and drinking alcohol, Luka stood as he knew such combinations often lead to projectile spewage. If anybody in this room was lucky, he would finish that joint _before_ he became inebriated.

"_Where you going_?" His smoking friend asked, tweaking an eyebrow.

"_Getting you a bucket_."

"_Oh, come on, I'm cool with it._"

"_No, the last time you said that, I had to get new shoes._" Running up the stairs, he headed for the kitchen, hoping the bucket that caught the leaky faucet pipe was still underneath the sink. Leaning over to get it out, he heard a noise from outside. Standing up straight to look out the window over the sink, he examined what little of the outside he could see. Shrugging, he leaned back over and extricated the bucket.

Looking into the bucket, he saw that it was about a third of the way full, now, pouring it down the sink would have been _very_ counter productive; so he walked over to the sliding-glass door in the adjacent living room. While whistling a merry tune, he unlocked and opened the door, tossing the water out into the darkness and receiving a very frustrated spluttering noise. Jumping and clutching at his chest, he saw a man dressed in dark clothes out in the back lawn, wiping water from his face.

"_Oh, I'm sorry man_!" He took a few steps out onto the back porch, figuring he was who he heard earlier in the kitchen. Being in a small town had its advantages, usually you knew everyone and just about everyone (save for a few people) was decently trustworthy. He stopped in his tracks however when a horrible growling noise came forth from the man.

Clutching the bucket to him, he realized he didn't recognize this man at all… Or did he?

"Hey!_ what's your name_?" The German asked this new guest, swaying from side to side a little bit to get a better look at them. There was another growl and he backed up as the man looked over. He swallowed audibly and nearly dropped his bucket as he got a good look at just who was before him. A pair of red _hungry_ eyes fixed on him from underneath a shock of sliver hair. Under normal circumstances he could have said the man was an albino, but the veins all over his dead-white face and black film over his bared teeth told him something else; run.

Turning tail and bolting back into the house, he dropped the bucket and tried to warn the two in the basement only to find himself shoved to the wooden floor. A cold, frantic mass, landing atop his back and driving the air from him, he knew he was in _real_ trouble. He wasn't even able to scream before having his head lifted up by the hair and beaten into the floor. It only took about three knocks before he was done.

*.*

Down in the basement, Paul and Felix heard all the ruckus and looked curiously to one another.

"_What do you think that was_?" The second asked, nervously looking to his friend.

"_Probably nothing, the bastard most likely tripped._" Paul said, not the least bit worried by all the noise.

"_Three times consecutively_?" Felix said then, raising his eyebrow in question, Paul just shrugged and responded with, "_It's possible_. _You're as bad as Luka._"

"_In such quick succession_?" Felix pressed and Paul rolled his eyes.

"_Okay, okay, if we're sooo worried here, we can go check. God._" Paul stood and Felix after him, both of them heading up the stairs. Walking up into the hallway and hearing no sign of their friend, they looked to each other and kept walking, strolling into the kitchen and once again finding it vacant.

"_Do you hear that_?" Felix whispered to Paul, they both remained quiet and listened, it sounded as if someone were breathing rather heavily.

"_Oh fuck, it's just Luka, I told you the asshole slipped._" They walked to the doorway between the kitchen and living room, freezing at the sight therein. A man of decent build was sitting over Luka's limp body, his nose buried in his dirty-blonde hair. Blood colored the strands of hair in some places and stained the nearby floor. Felix's breath caught in his throat as his stomach turned over, the smaller man atop Luka froze.

Both boys taking a few steps back, a board creaked beneath their feet. The man suddenly looked up, taking a deep breath through his nose before hacking and spitting out some vile, black liquid. A broad grin bloomed over his features and he shakily stood.

"_What the hell do you want_?" Paul asked as Felix ran to get a large knife from a chopping block. Taking it out of its wooden sheath, he nodded to himself and returned to Paul's side, holding it out before them.

"_Food_." the intruder simply hissed, taking a few steps towards them as if he hadn't seen the knife yet.

"_Food_? _What the fuck_?" Paul backed up, pushing Felix back with him. Their intruder was shorter than both of them, maybe only three or so inches. The air around him reeked of the dead and dying and that was more than enough to tell them that they weren't dealing with a pushover.

"_You_."

"_What_?" Paul's angered look hardened, this fuck had killed Luka!

"_Smell delicious_." A nasty, black-coated tongue flicked out and licked the demon's lips. His red eyes were shining with hunger and malicious intent. Suddenly he lunged for them, grabbing a hold of Paul and burying his teeth into his neck. Felix screamed and ran at him as Paul squirmed and cried out for help. The knife slid nicely into the monster's side and he threw the boy back to his friend to observe the damage.

Paul, holding his neck, bolted for the basement, Felix following after him, but not before seeing the other in the house draw the knife from his side and look at it. What the fuck? Didn't it at least hurt?

It only occurred to them after they got down there that there wasn't much of an escape route. So, As Paul continued down the stairs, Felix pulled the door shut and locked it.

"_Fuck_! _That sick maniac_!" Paul yelled from his place on the floor as Felix ran over and tried to pry his fingers away to get a good look at the bite. Managing to do so, he saw a horrific, black liquid on the outside and in the bite. Oh shit… Felix sat back, his face twisted and disturbed, curling in on himself. "_What_?" his friend struck him and pulled him closer before releasing him, "_What_?"

"_Did you see what he was wearing_?" Felix's voice was barely even a whisper.

"_I wasn't really focused on that_!" Blood oozed freely from his neck and into his shirt, strangely enough, it didn't really hurt anymore.

"_A blue military jacket, the buttons cut off…_" He looked to Paul, terror and confusion molding into one on his face.

"_What, are you saying he's the guy we buried_?" Paul scoffed and shook his head, "_He was dead. And even if he wasn't at the time, he _should_ be after we buried him…_"

"_Unless…_"

"_Oh, fuck no_! _Don't you dare go there_!" The door to the basement flung open, the intruder walking down the stairs, flipping the knife around his hand. "_Shit_." They both stood, Paul still clutching at his wound, attempting to get the blood to stop, instead, he found it worse as if given a blood thinner.

The intruder chuckled to himself, "Kesesesese." hacking a few times after, spitting the grotesque liquid somewhere else. The boys heard his stomach growl and swallowed.

"_Hello._" The albino hissed, tossing his knife from hand to hand. The two stood together, their breathing becoming more and more frantic before looking to each other one last time and charging him. "Hah!" The monster laughed, catching them both in his arms, throwing Felix off into a corner with ease. Paul thrashed and yelled to be released, kicking wherever he could and receiving no results. Feeling the monster's hand on his neck, he continued to squirm until the hand tightened and there was a sickening crack. His body went limp and Felix screamed, catching the only other moving thing's attention. Taking a bite out of Paul's neck, sucking on the blood that flowed out and swallowing a little bit of meat, the blood-drenched albino tossed him aside.

Approaching Felix and laughing, he showed the boy his knife and his grin widened. Leaning down and grabbing the human, he lifted him to his feet and hissed in his face, "_Doesn't work on the dead._" The knife plunged deep into Felix's stomach, the albino twisting and moving it around in him before sweeping the knife upwards, his entrails spilling out over the flesh-eater and onto the floor. The last thing Felix heard was his wheezing laugh.

Finally through with all this killing business, Prussia dragged the other body over to the first and threw it on top of it. Finding himself rather disgusted, but still hungry, he sat down and pulled the first into his lap, ripping its arm off more easily than it ever had been. Almost chuckling, he brought the arm up to his mouth and dug his teeth into the flesh. Fuck… It was delicious… A strange feeling coming over him as it had when he had originally glimpsed the two humans, he ate. Ripping, the succulent meat from the bone and thinking of literally nothing all the while.

At the meat's end, he found himself even able to eat the bone, it snapping like potato chips in his jaws. He even cracked the skull open and sucked out what was there, was that supposed to taste that good? Belching, he looked at the shattered skull and chuckled, "Alas, poor Yorick…" A snigger and he tossed the skull away. Looking to the entrails, he decided they weren't worth eating, they even seemed to disgust his new-found tastes.

Finishing what was left of the first human, he didn't think it possible to _still_ be hungry! Though it had slacked itself a little bit, he dug into the next corpse with reckless abandon. It was colder, but he didn't care, something deep inside of him told him to eat, told him it was right, God, this felt good.

.*.*.*.

Notes:

Ich komm wieder

in zehn Tagen

als dein Schatten

und werd dich jagen-I will return in ten days as your shadow and will hunt you.

Ich liebe dich, für immer-I love you, forever.

Say, uhm, just a poll here, who here thinks I need to change the rating on this? I mean, I don't find violence a truly mature topic (then again, I don't really find sex an explicit topic either, but I am required to) But uhm, yeah, there you have it, chapter two. God my head hurts, it's like… 4:30 AM, fuck I need to go to bed.


	3. Die Gretchenfrage

Ach, writer's block is a bitch, the main scene of Throwback I am trying to write and it's not working out. I need a little of a distraction here, so here I am a-writing something that is supposed to just be here as a side project. Sorry again my readers, maybe I'll get some ideas as I write.

.*.*.*.

_... Glaubst du an Gott?_

_Mein Liebchen, wer darf sagen:_

_Ich glaub an Gott!_

_Magst Priester oder Weise fragen,_

_Und ihre Antwort scheint nur Spott_

_Über den Frager zu sein._

_So glaubst du nicht?_

_*.*_

_Oh, fuck…_ Luka vaguely though as he forced himself awake, his forehead pulsated with pain and his face felt sticky. His eyes drifting open slowly, he surveyed the wonderful perspective of a common house spider. What was the brown stuff dried by his head?

Groaning, he sat up and rubbed his head before shaking it to clear it. What had happened last night? A party? Oh, no, wait… He was at Paul's house… Felix had been smoking some weed and drinking so he came upstairs to…

"Oh fuck…" Forcing himself to his feet, he realized he was weak due to the stain (or rather, the missing liquid that _made up _the stain) on the floor. The glass door was still open, where had the bastard out back gone? His eyes searching, he found nothing missing form what he could see. Hm, had the guy just knocked him out for throwing the water on him?

Something forcing him to go further into the house, he walked into the kitchen, hm, the cabinet from last night was still open, but nothing else looked out of place. Mumbling to himself, he walked over and closed the cabinet with a sigh. Outside was barely light so the fucker had put him out for the whole night.

Wait a minute, when he didn't come back neither Felix nor Paul came looking for him!

_Lazy fuckers_. He thought to himself and turned on the faucet, washing his face and picking the dried blood from his skin while grumbling about his rotten luck.

Running a finger over the scabbed wound, he figured he might as well bandage it just in case. Well, there was a first-aid kit in the basement next to Paul's father's shotgun, shrugging, he started for the basement.

The first thing that tipped him off about the odd state of affairs was not the odor or iron or stale meat, but the boot-print on the basement door ant he busted doorjamb. The smell though was a heavy indicator that all was not well in the Kalb residence. Taking a deep, steadying breath (needing to hold down what little was in his stomach after doing so), he took a step back from the stairs.

The tears that came unbidden to his eyes told his reluctant mind what his body had already accepted. His life was going to be a hell-hole the moment he so hesitatingly trod down those stairs. So, keeping his stomach in place as he swallowed, he stepped down the stairs and into the smell of some rancid cloud.

Right off the bat, his eyes fell upon something that made his stomach lurch and water flow in droves down his cheeks. His legs shook and his heart seized in his chest while every fiber of his being told him to run; at his feet was a shattered skull. The crown of it was missing and its precious organ (and eyeballs) removed. The sliver of rotting brainstem made his stomach lurch again but he still managed to keep his bile inside. From where he stood, a boot, still attached to its owner, was barely in sight on the arm of the couch. The blood coating the black leather made it appear more brown than black and he slowly approached it.

Careful not to make any noise, Luka stood at the end of the couch, looking over the prostrate man occupying it. His clothes, caked with blood and what looked to be dirt, were ragged from having been searched… Wait, his buttons were missing… Luka staunched a rather unmanly noise of realization that this was the man they had buried more than a week ago. Strangely enough though, the man's chest did not rise and fall with the peace of sleep, he didn't twitch in a dream and his eyes were motionless beneath their lids. Despite all that, there was slight color to his skin, veins once visible last night were no longer, he could have been awake and just holding his breath. Walking around to the front of the couch, careful of all the discarded alcohol bottles and cans, Luka leaned over and stuck a few fingers to the sleeping man's wrist. A watchful eye was critical here and as he groped for a pulse on the cold-as-death appendage, especially the reactions on the murder's face. There were none by the way.

In the end, unable to find a pulse or any sign of breathing, Luka decided that he was dead. Maybe all the blood around his mouth was his? There was an entry cut from a knife on the man's uniform after all. Well, just to be safe, Luka headed for the WC in the basement, going for the first aid kit and its companion. The sight upon entering the bathroom though had him retching loud enough to wake the dead. Quickly flinging his head over the sink, he vomited into its basin as convulsions and sobs wracked his body. Even after he had run out of bile he continued to dry-heave, the reeking pile of bowels giving him no other choice.

Drawing in a breath and holding it, he looked to the horrific mound of rotting intestines and realized there was too much to belong to one person. What had that bastard done to them? Had he _needed_ to disembowel them? Anger overwhelming his disgust and revulsion, he reached and grabbed the shotgun sitting in the corner, making sure it was loaded.

"_Kid, you alright in there_?" Came a tired voice from outside the room, wheeling around and walking out, he looked to the _dead_ man sitting up and looking over to him.

Jumping in terror and cocking the gun, he pointed it at the albino on the couch. The man blinked and carefully raised his hands slowly and stood, "_Sit down_!" Luka barked nervously, the shotgun shaking in his hands.

"_Let's not be hasty, put the gun down._" The man asked calmly.

"_What did you do with them_?" Luka screamed, keeping him in his line of fire. The man stopped for a second and tired to think of what he could mean by that…

"_You mean those humans down here last night_?"

"_No shit_!"

"_Oh,_" the albino just shrugged, "_I ate them_." Not quite comprehending the strange visitor's meaning, Luka shifted the gun in his hands and squinted his eyes at him in question.

"_What_?"

Lifting a pack of cigarettes from the table nearby, the man took one and sat back on the arm of the couch, lighting it up with a lighter that seemed to materialize from nowhere. He took one deep drag on it and breathed the smoke out and reiterated, "_I. Ate. Them_." Luka's grip on the shotgun faltered and the visitor looked a little bit confused himself. Tears burning at his eyes, repulsion eating at his stomach, pain tearing through _everywhere_ Luka aimed the gun with total certainty at the distracted man on the couch.

Noticing something was up, the shorter man tossed his silver hair out of his red eyes and sniggered, "_What are you going to do_? _Shoot me_?" He laughed as if that were the most preposterous thing he had ever heard. Standing with his hand out to take the gun, a shot was fired. Blood spurted from between the intruder's eyes and he fell back over the arm of the couch, staining the cushions.

At first, Luka took the gun from the ready and looked over his shoulder into the bathroom at the remains of his dead friends.

"_What the fuck, kid_?" Luka's heart skipped a beat at the voice and, shaking, he turned to look to the now standing man.

Working the muscles of his face the best he could, the bullet between his eyes was forced out, popping into the monster's gloved hand.

"_That really hurt_." He snorted blood from his nose to clear his knitting sinus (more blood spraying from the hole in the bone before it closed up). The hole in the skin oddly remained (the scourge of his face as it were), the glittering white skull gleaming just beneath. "_Did you really have to shoot me, you foul-smelling fucker_?" he yelled, advancing on and wrenching the gun from Luka's jittery hands. Raising it up, he made to slam the butt of the gun into his head, Luka ducked and scrambled away on all fours, trying for the door, "_Hey, where do you think you're going_?" A boot came down hard between his shoulder blades, planting his face into the blood-sopped carpet. "_Did I say you could leave_? _Jeez, kids these days_._ Don't kill 'em and they assume they can do whatever they want._" The tone of voice suggested the man was rolling his eyes, indignant at that.

"_Why are you doing this_?" Luka shifted his head so the carpet didn't muffle his words.

"_You shot me_! _What the hell_?" The boot pressed harder, "_I was going to be nice until that_!"

"_No, not this you idiot_!" Luka's tongue lashed, forgetting its place in the situation, "_Why did you kill them_? _Eat them_!"

"_Hm…_" The albino removed his boot from him and stood by, a thoughtful look on his face, "_Hell if I know_. _I just knew that I should… They smelled so good. _Tasted_ so good… I've never really had much of a taste for humans though, so it's a bit weird for me._" Shifting his legs, Luka sat on his knees, looking up at him. He wasn't _acting_ too harmful at the moment. "_Oh, by the way_," Luka fell backwards, hitting the ground and driving the air from him again, his knees cracked as he ended up with his back touching his calves. It didn't occur to him what had hit him or even why his face hurt so much until he saw the man flex his fingers and shift his glove. "_Don't call me an idiot you pathetic human._"

Getting his wind back and his monstrous visitor picking up a bottle of whiskey while sitting back on the couch, Luka stood.

"_So, uhm… What's your name_?"

"_What's it to you_?" The albino replied, taking another drag on his cigarette and taking a swig of whiskey.

"_Well, I would like to know the name of my friends' murder._" Chuckling, the guest took a long drink the whiskey he had and looked back at him.

"_Murderer_? _A bit overdramatic if you ask me._"

"_Cannibal_." Luka snorted, folding his arms over his chest.

"_Hardly_." Mr. Intruder's eyes raked up the boy's body, a kind of evil amusement sparkling there as if he knew something he didn't. He emptied the once full bottle of whiskey, tossing it aside and picking up a new bottle of schnapps. Another drag and he puffed out some smoke.

"Zombie _then_." Humming thoughtfully, he looked back to Luka.

"_That… I don't know._" he took a deep breath and licked his lips, staring hungrily at Luka. The small exposed area of bone on his nose now oozed thick, darkly-colored blood and the German took a step back. "_But I do know I am very thirsty_." Luka moved to run, but his wrist was caught in the steel trap of the invader's hand and pulled to him. He yelped and squirmed when the albino buried his teeth in the soft flesh and sucked. Weakly, he felt himself slump against the feeding man, feeling no want to resist, the bite hardly hurt at all anymore.

"_Please…_" he plead in a tired, small voice, "_Stop_." Oddly enough, the man released him and let him slump forward onto the couch as he stood. With vision blurring his skin stung as alcohol was rubbed over he open wound on a swab and gauze packed onto the bleeding area. His body was hefted and deposited somewhere soft and covered by something warm before darkness took him

*.*

The sun had set once more and Prussia had found himself awake with its disappearance, though, less hungry. In fact, he didn't have the slightest desire for food. The lighting was normal, sounds were of higher volume now, but didn't scream at him, neither did the air he breathed or scents. To be even more precise, everything felt pretty much the same as it had been before this weirdness started. Of course, he was surprised he remembered nothing of the ten days prior to his awakening, but it didn't exactly worry him. He felt great! Like he had never been occupied by Russia and happy, biggest thing that scared him (other than the devouring humans thing was he was apparently albino now. Also, he was a little worried he still didn't need to use the bathroom. Something else, what had that awful black stuff he'd been spitting out been?

Oh, so many questions and yet no answers. He was now actually waiting for something else puzzling. The young human that smelled rank and clung inside his nose, was currently sleeping on the basement couch and he was waiting for him to awake. This human intrigued him for some reason or another and he in his blind hunger the other night had no desire to eat him or even hurt him. Which confused him to no end. He didn't _look_ any different from any other human that he had met… It was because of this that Prussia had patched him up after drinking his blood (and healing the cut on his own nose just for things to get even weirder) the morning of. Something _was_ troubling him now though, the human had called him a zombie… Sure, Prussia _was_ supposed to be dead, he _did_ dig himself out of the ground and he _did _eat two humans and drink three pints of another's blood earlier… But, pbbt, that didn't make him a zombie! Of course not… Did it? He snorted, no, of course not! Zombies didn't exist and weren't zombies supposed to be, like, mindless flesh-eaters? Well, he kind of had been that other night, but, c'mon, he probably hadn't eaten in ten days! Also, if he were a zombie… Wouldn't the human be one now too? Last he checked, even to the living, one bite made them zombies too. He guessed he would get his answer when the boy awoke. Until then though, he nursed a bottle of schnapps, these little buggers had been _loaded_! He had never quite seen so much alcohol and weed in one teen's basement. Of course, they didn't have near enough booze, his brother put them to shame many times over, but hey, for humans, it was pretty good.

At about 22:00, the boy stirred and Prussia looked to the couch with interest. At first, he reached up with his bandaged hand to feel the uncared for, scabbed-over cut on his head. After that though, he sighed and looked sleepily over at Prussia. He didn't look frightened or even angry, he looked as though he were thinking.

"_Am I going to be like you now_?" He asked sleepily.

"_If I am a zombie, maybe, if not, thanks for the blood kid_." Prussia said honestly.

"_Right_." The kid raised his wrist and flexed his hand, wincing at the sore muscles. Taking a deep breath, he propped himself up and stared at him. It was slightly unnerving to be honest.

"_So, kid, do you have a name_?" Prussia asked, tossing a beer to him. Wearily, the boy caught it and gave him a suspicious look before opening it.

He sipped at the beer a few times before answering, "_Does it matter_? _Aren't I just your next meal_?"

"_I don't think so_." Prussia started dubiously, dipping into his booze again, "_You smell and taste _really_ bad._"

"_Jeez, thanks. Nice to know I'm nasty_."

"_No problem_, _so_, _about your name_?"

"_What is it to you_?"

"_Hey, no copying off me_." The human quirked his eyebrows at him and sucked down half the ill-gotten beer in his hand.

"_Why do you want it then_?" He tossed a bit of his hair from his face and fixed Prussia with a stony glare.

"_I want to know what to call you. I can't let you leave my company alive I hope you know_." Not that puny humans could ever do anything to him, he just wanted to keep the boy around.

Sighing, the human seemed to weigh his options before putting the beer down on the table in front of him and looking back to Prussia, "_You killed my two best friends, at them in fact, Paul's parents will be home at the end of the week and you'll probably kill them to and the rest of the town slowly after that… I'd prefer you'd kill me than I stick around as your pet to watch_."

At least the kid was realistic, Prussia found himself just liking him all the more. He clicked his tongue and took an unnecessary breath, "_I like you kid, I'm not going to lie, the awesome me does not lie… So, how about this, tell me your name and I won't eat the people you like. Under the circumstance that you do what I ask of you_." The look he was on the receiving end of was calm outrage. The human's brow furrowed immediately and he snatched up the beer again to finish it.

"_No_."

"_Okay, fine. If that's the way you'd rather, I really will eat this town slowly and let you live_."

"_I'll kill you_." the human quietly threatened and Prussia made a noise of humor.

"_Hm, if I remember correctly, you shot me between my eyes,_" He scratched the long-healed area, "_and I am still here. Humans cannot kill me, they never will be able to_."

Narrowing his eyes, the dishwater-blonde-haired human leaned back on the couch and scrutinized him with harsh eyes, "_I'll kill myself then_."

"_Not that it's any skin of my back, kid_." Prussia shrugged, "_But, if I choose to just leave afterwards_? _Apart from the fact that you'll be dead for no good reason of course… You shoot yourself or what have you while your best buds lay in a discombobulated pile in a basement… You'll be the first suspect on the list. Think of the shame you'll put your family and other friends through… Would you really want that to be your legacy_? _A man that murdered his best friends, disemboweled them and ate them before shooting himself_?" Prussia quirked his eyebrows and motioned to him to be sensible about the topic.

"_Better to show remorse than merely disappearing with you as you doubtlessly will later_."

"_Ah, but then you have me on your side to help you out. I can get you out of many messes and yes, when we do leave, it will just seem like you were one among many who just disappeared_."

"_Do you honestly thi_-"

"_Screw morals you stupid pig, think about which you would rather have say on your tombstone_? _'Beloved son and friend' or 'Cold-blooded, cannibalistic murderer'_?" Prussia growled. "_You have to pick one or the other, there is nothing more I can give you._"

The human contemplated his bottle before sighing and looking towards the bathroom, "_You can't stay here, you'll need to go into the surrounding woods somewhere. And bury Paul and Felix_…"

"_Of course, my grave is still open, now, your name_."

Furrowing his brow, it still seemed like the human wanted to resist being fettered, but gave in at last, "Luka Mendel."

"_Well, _Mendel_. You may call me Prussia_." Catching the human's outraged and confused look he explained, "_I am not human. I never have been and even if I ever had I don't remember it. Among the people like me, I am known as Prussia_."

"_You don't have any other name_?" Luka asked, sitting up a bit more but finding it dizzying.

"_I do have a name that my brother and friends called me by, but I can't give it to you now_."

"_Why not? I gave you my actual name_."

"_You are a human and I am a stronger being, if I am a zombie, even more so than I already was… I don't owe you anything_." Luka was glaring at him now, thinking about betraying this pompous ass at some point, "_Also, if I ever catch you doing anything suspicious, I can't die from any mortal means. You would have to find someone like me to kill me and just a hint, per country in the world, there is only one person like me, good luck finding them_."

"_If I am to trust you to do anything other than fuck me over like you already are, I want something showing you trust me as well_." Luka had himself wrapped up in the blanket Prussia had put over him earlier, regarding him stonily.

"_By merely explaining that to you I am putting trust into you. The rules now-a-days are that humans aren't allowed to know we exist outside of the privileged few_."

"_Now-a-days_?"

"_I am centuries old, kid_." Luka's eyes narrowed again and he still looked skeptical.

"_If you weren't already human, what were you_?"

"_I am the embodiment of a nation_." Prussia was unsure why he was divulging this secret to this little human, but something told him he would have to if he wished to keep him around. The human was just staring at him in a "oh please" kind of way. "_The reason why my name is Prussia. My most recent name though was the German Democratic Republic. It would make sense for me to be among the dead as my little brother has finally reunified_."

"_My bullshit meter is about to hit its limit. You better prove you're one of these… Anthropomorphic nation things now_."

"_Or you'll do what_?" Prussia snorted and rolled his eyes.

"_I always could call up the local loony-bin_." Yes, it was a rather harmless threat, but Prussia admired his candor despite the fact he knew he would be unable to gain the upper hand in this relationship no matter how hard he tried.

"_I take it that the getting shot in the head wasn't enough_." Prussia said with a deadpan expression.

"_I could always chalk that up to you being a zombie_." Luka replied off-handedly as if he had conversations like this on a daily basis.

"_Shots to the head _kill_ zombies though_." The albino argued.

"_I don't know, some can only be killed by burning or decapitation_." He suppressed an amused snort as Luka just shrugged.

"_That's vampires you twat_."

"_Maybe you're a kind of vampire then_." Laughing, Prussia stood and began to take his clothes off, "_What are you doing_?"

"_Proving to you that I'm a nation_."

"_By getting naked_?" The human averted his eyes as Prussia dropped his pants.

"_Look here, it won't kill you to gaze upon my beauty_."

"_Beauty isn't quite the word I'm looking for here_." Luka hissed as he looked back to the pallid flesh of the dead man. His skin was hardly what he would of expected, he would've imagined a vain-seeming man like him to have unmarred plains of stone-white, crisscrossed with veins. But instead, his eyes went over the various disturbances of ropey and jagged scars. The way he stood unabashed by the man's eyes told him that he was not ashamed of everything that had happened to him. Maybe he was even proud of himself. As a man of artistic taste, he could have called Prussia's various impurities artful; but as just a man, he couldn't admit that, heaven knew he was already made fun of.

"_Like what you see, boy_?" the albino hissed with distain.

"_In some respects_."

"_Gay_."

"_Artist_." the nude's eyes flicked over him.

"_**Gay**_."

"_Fine, call me what you like and get on with your fucking demonstration you exhibitionist_." A small victory of an appreciative smirk appeared on Prussia's face and he spread out his arms to turn himself around.

"_You see nothing on me, right_?"

"_Yes_." His eyebrow quirked as his eyes beheld the huge spider-like scar that exploded from the middle of Prussia's back, had he been impaled then mutilated? Well, he was mutilated in general, but that scar seemed excessive.

"_Well, pick an item, any item that you know is not in this house_." Eyebrow climbing higher up his forehead, Luka thought.

"_An AK-47_?" There was a click and Luka about had a heart-attack as the heart-less man aimed the gun that had not been there before at him with a killer's efficiency. "_Put that down, damn it_!"

"_You wanted it_." Prussia tossed it over his shoulder, but there was never the sound of a crash. It was as if the object just evaporated. "_Something else_."

"_A tank_?"

Luka got an odd look from him then, "_I'm not saying that I can't do it, it's just… Will that even fit in this place? Also, you don't want me with an AK-47, let alone a damn tank_."

"_A fish tank_…"

"_Oh… Fish included_?"

"_Why not_?" Luka actually paid attention this time as Prussia reached behind his back and produced a full and complete aquarium from the space there. "_How'd you do that_?" Luka leaned in as Prussia took a few steps towards him and ran his fingers through the water.

"_All nations, as long as they are within their own boarders, which, this place technically used to be a long time ago, can take something from anywhere within their boarders_."

"_So, this is someone's personal aquarium_?"

"_Yep_." Prussia sat it down on the coffee table, obviously showing no desire to give it back.

"_Does that mean whenever our stuff goes missing that_-"

"_No, it just means you guys are lazy and forget where you put things. It can come from anywhere in the country, the chances that my brother or I ever took something from you is slim to none_." Prussia plopped down into the comfortable armchair he had been lazing in and produced a cigarette, lighting it with his produced lighter.

"_Are you going to give that back_?" Prussia regarded the fish tank it its frightened inhabitants as he took his first drag.

"_I don't see why I should._"

"_The fish will die_…"

"_They're fish, there are billions of them in the world_." Luka supposed that there was logic in that, but he couldn't help but feel the man was being cruel.

_Fuck yeah he is, he eats people…_

"_Anyway, you have your proof. And that in itself is my trust of you. Now, you said that I needed to hide somewhere, where is this to be_?"

Luka sighed and felt sick, it was time to begin, "_Bury Paul and Felix first. Then I'll tell you_." Prussia rolled his eyes and stood, making Luka look away again, "_Put some pants on too while you're at it_."

"_Fine… To the first thing_."

For the next fifteen minutes while Prussia gathered up the strewn remains of his friends and put them in a bag, Luka had to endure his naked comrade. A few times he could swear he bent over and wiggled his butt on purpose. God, it was obvious that there were plenty of gay jokes to come in _this _relationship.

*.*

"_This is so gross_." Luka said as he and Prussia emptied the bag of human offal into the open grave in the field. Prussia just grunted and shoved a huge mound of dirt onto the pile and stamped it down with his boots.

"_More to come since intestines are rather unpalatable if they aren't being used for sausage_."

"_Disgusting_." Luka panted, his whole world had been shaky since he stood. He was missing a considerable amount of blood and it had yet to come back. There was also he was deathly hungry, but was totally unwilling to express this to Prussia as it would make him seem like he was complaining too much.

"_I've been covered in worse in the heat of battle, you don't know disgusting_." Prussia suddenly looked pensive and his eyes strayed over to Luka. "_You have family, don't you_?"

"_Of course_."

"_You probably won't see them again after tonight_…" For a moment, Prussia almost looked sympathetic, and little did Luka know, he actually was. He missed his own brother like a man misses his leg. So badly he wanted to find his brother and embrace him, but if he was dead, which he probably was, how would he react? To be honest, Prussia was terrified of that meeting. He chose to put it off for as long as possible. It would be even worse if his brother were to see what he had become, if he _was _a zombie…

"_Are you telling me to say goodbye_?"

"_Yes, gather what little you hold valuable and meet me over at the tree line. I'm dead, I can wait._" Prussia turned his back to Luka and began to walk. "_By the way, if you aren't there before one, I know what you smell like_."

With Prussia's threat in mind, Luka bolted, nearly tripping numerous times as his legs were beginning to fail him. He knocked into the door of his home and probably gained himself a new bruise. Shoving the door open he was immensely distraught to find that it was empty. Neither his father, his sisters, mother or brother were there. The only person in the house though quickly made her appearance and scared the living hell out of the half-dead man.

"_Luka_?" His grandmother tapped his shoulder, making him jump and swing around to her. "_You've done something haven't you_…" Remembering that he had a rather nasty bite on his wrist, he made sure to do his best to keep it out of sight.

"_N-no_! _Why would you think that_?" He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"_You're as pale as death_." She said, taking his hand and patting it, "_Come on, your mother left you some food in the oven_." They both walked to the kitchen together and she forced him to sit. The old woman pulled the pan of food out of the oven and sat it in front of him. "_Eat_." She gave him a fork and he hungrily attacked the food. "_Now… What have you done_?"

Nearly choking on the food in his mouth, he looked to her, "_I haven't done anything_…"

"_Don't lie to me. You know you're bad at it_." She poured herself some tea and sat down in the chair across from him.

"_Really, Grandma, I haven't done anything_…" Shaking her head, some of her salt and pepper hair escaped its bun and she sighed.

"_Then what are you about to do_?"

"_Why are you being so weird_?"

"_Because I know that something is not right. You can't fool an old seer like me_." His grandmother fancied herself an expert in all things unnatural. It would have been foolish to actually believe her, but maybe there was a bit of truth to the old stories she used to tell.

"_I can't tell you_…" The old woman's frown deepened and she gave him a look of understanding.

"_Whatever it is you must do… Or whatever it is you have done, I can only pray you know what you are doing. And if you do not, may spirits guide your shaking hands_." She took one of his that was indeed shaking and he hadn't known it. Turning his hand over, she ran her fingers over his palm. She smiled and rubbed her finger over a particular mark in his hand. "_You'll do fine_."

_I don't want to do fine_, he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It would lead on too much that he was going to condone something of the most depraved nature. Finishing off his food he stood, earning himself a look from his grandmother, "_I'm sorry, I'm exhausted_."

"_I would say, you look like shit_." Well, the most polite of old women she was not. Luka allowed a chuckle and hugged her tightly before heading up to his room.

Once closing his door, he pulled out his largest backpack, he stuffed some clothes into it, an unopened bar of soap, toothbrush and paste, stopping for a second to note how this was just like going on a trip. Of course this was a trip he wasn't going to be returning from… God damn it! Fuck Prussia! Tears now began to pull at his eyes and he cursed the fact that he didn't have a family portrait to bring with him. Grumbling, he guessed that he would snatch the one off the table in the front hallway before leaving.

Getting together what money he had laying around, he stuffed that into his bag as well. A few of his favorite books were added and a sweatshirt for the cold nights. He was going to be hanging around the woods until Prussia deemed it necessary to leave so he had to think hard about what he would need.

"_Fuck_." He moaned, sitting down on his bed and grabbing his arms, rubbing them against the cold spreading within him. This was so stupid! He had one more year left at _Gymnasium, _one and none of this shit would have mattered to him as much. Of course, it would have still mattered, but at least he could say he had an _Arbitur_. But no, here he was, not even a graduate and running away from home after some maniac anthropomorphic **thing**that was also a flesh-eating zombie! How in fuck could his life get much worse? Well, he decided not to truly ask himself that as it went without saying that things _would_ get phenomenally worse in the coming weeks and months.

Realizing he really didn't have time to be whining, he took a deep breath and calmed himself. He wasn't leaving because he wanted to, he was leaving because if he didn't his family would die. If he stayed, the body count would be higher than if he did as the delusional man asked.

Having finished packing his bag, he opened the window and dropped the bag down to the ground below. Now just to leave… Since he had to make it seem like he had suffered the same fate as his friends he couldn't afford to leave a note for his family and that tore at him. Well, it would be less the worrying anyway. Better to think him dead than alive and possibly suffering.

The bite on his wrist throbbed terribly and he began to feel a headache start along with the light-headedness he had felt since awakening. He sighed and realized that he probably _was_ going to be dead soon if Prussia was indeed a zombie. Hm, _un_dead, he supposed more like. Slightly, he wondered if he would be a zombie like Prussia, one that had a mind, or if he was going to be the more classic zombie. It was good that Prussia wanted to get him away from his family now if that were to be the case… Perhaps he had been thinking of that? No, that was giving him too much credit.

Groaning, he left his room and groped down the hallway to his bathroom, unwrapping his wrist and clicking on the overhead light to get a better look at the bite.

His brow furrowed as he stared at the thing, it wasn't horribly maimed as he had thought it was. There were two raised and raw crescents where Prussia's jaws had been. The blood had stopped flowing and the area had since scabbed over. The actual bite itself looked as if it had even been cleaned… Oh wait… Hadn't he felt Prussia clean it? Yeah… That explained the wrap that had been on it. The only thing that really did worry him were the veins of black coming out of it beneath the skin.

He felt his heart pound in his chest and he swallowed as he realized it must've been the area around it dying. Fuck! Calming himself again, he ran some water from the sink over it and dried it off before wrapping it again and tying it off. Everything was going to be okay.

_Yeah right…_ His pessimistic mind supplied, not helping his spiking blood pressure. Frustrated enough, he ran his hands through his hair nervously as his breathing sped up. Around town, it was a common-known fact that Luka suffered from the odd anxiety attack. Nausea presented itself and he put his arms around himself, leaning against the wall to his back and slipped down it. Tried as he did to focus on his breathing and calm down, it was a rather difficult thing to do considering the situation he had put himself in. Somehow or another he had managed to put off an event such as this all night long and his body had had enough of it!

Images of him dead-white with silvery hair and red eyes flashed through his mind. Thoughts of him eating poor screaming men, women and children unable to escape accompanied them. Finally, him laying dead at a man's feet, his head blown to pieces by the fire of a rifle.

Soon this panic attack was shadowed by anger and resentment. Fuck Paul! Fuck Felix! The greedy bastards did this to him! If they had just left the fucking body alone he wouldn't be in this mess! But nor would he be in the position he was in to fix it… Prussia would have come alive again anyway, wouldn't he? Yes, he supposed that sounded about right… Paul and Felix died so he could get a handle on the situation. Without him around, _everyone_ in the town would end up fodder for the albino, not just the select few.

Finally having managed to calm himself down, he shoved himself up from the floor and ran his fingers through his hair again. He had to go soon. Staring at his reflection for a long while, he contemplated growing a goatee or something, maybe shaving his head. If he was going to go missing he was going to have to completely re-invent what he looked like before he died. Well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it. For now?

"_Bye_." He mumbled, turning out the light of the bathroom and carefully walking down the stairs. Stepping into the main hallway, he bent down and picked up a pair of boots he had. There would probably be some major walking done and he didn't want to be unprepared. "_Hey, Grandma_!"

"_What is it Luka_?" The woman's voice called from over in the next room.

"_Paul and Felix said earlier they wanted to do something, so I'm going, okay_?"

"_Be careful sweetie_!" Her cheerful voice called and he sighed, hoping that it was harder for her to catch him in a lie when she couldn't see him. Taking a breath, he sighed and walked over to the family photo sitting by the door. He picked up the frame and extricated the photo from it before opening the door and casually strolling out as if he were going to do something like this every day.

He then walked around to the back of the house and picked up his bag, putting the photo into a small compartment.

One last look at his childhood home and he shook his head, at least they wouldn't know. Supposing he shouldn't hang around until his family got home, he turned and left, heading off for the area Prussia had said he would be waiting.

.*.*.*.

Notes:

The piece at the beginning-... Do you believe in God?

My darling, who can (really) say:

I believe in God!

You may ask priests or wise men,

And their answer seems but a mockery

Of the questioner to be.

So you do not believe?

Gretchenfrage-(Gretchen Question) is used in German to refer to any crucial, essential question, usually a difficult or unpleasant one. The term comes from a drama written by Johannas Goethe (Faust), within a scene (partially quoted at the beginning of this chapter) Gretchen asks Faust a question she considers vital: "Glaubst du an Gott?" (Do you believe in God?) Considering the time in which the drama was written, religion was important in every day life, thus making this question even more important.

Tank-Fish tank-I know this is an English play on words and not German (those respective words being Panzer and Aquarium if I'm not mistaken) but do something I don't ask of you guys very often and just go with it for the sake of a joke.

Gymnasium-A type of school in Germany similar to the American high school, it goes up through grade thirteen.

Arbitur-Basically a graduation diploma

Hmmm, I'm getting the feeling I haven't been paying enough attention to my Hetalia fictions at the moment. -rolling of the eyes here- Oh well, like I said, I'll look places for inspiration for Throwback. Also, Luka! Shame on you! Don't you know _everything _can be explained through getting naked?


End file.
